


A cappella

by CountingWithTurkeys



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: And the Misfits, Everything is always canon, F/F, Pretty much just Marceline, Spinoff, Tags Are Hard, still canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-03-23 21:59:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13797183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CountingWithTurkeys/pseuds/CountingWithTurkeys
Summary: To Finn, Jake, and Princess Bubblegum finding Marceline lost within the wasteland of her mind took mere hours. But to Marceline, her friends finding her within the wasteland of her mind took the better part of a hundred years.So what exactly was she doing all that time?(Yes, it's a Rehearsal mini-series)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Real talk: Hey guys! Look! It's the promised mini-series! So here's the thing, one comment I kept getting on Rehearsal was the desire to know more about some of the backstory of what happened in Marceline's mind before the trio showed up. Since a lot obviously happened. Like Love Song, A cappella will be comprised of a series of thematic stories, posted non-chronologically (time has no place in a vampire's mind), this time focusing on what happened before Finn, Jake, and Bubblegum showed up.
> 
> Here's the thing, and I cannot say this loud enough. This is a REHEARSAL CONTINUATION. That means you should not read this if you have not read Rehearsal. Not only will A cappella not make any sense it will be a MASSIVE spoiler.
> 
> You know the drill, guys! If you like my multi-chapter works give me some way of knowing that (kudos/comments/bookmarks/etc). I write both for myself AND you all. You should know that by now.
> 
> Content Warnings:
> 
> Teaser

**** Her footsteps echoed, drowning out the silence of the barren world. They shouldn’t echo, physics shouldn’t allow it, but the laws of nature had no place here, in this wasteland that she found herself confined. Logically, the whole situation would be alarming to any sane and reasonable person, but she didn’t allow herself such frivolous emotions. Why would she? She knew where she was, even if she had only been there before under sharply different circumstances. Nevertheless, it was familiar. She was comfortable. Her stride was calm, even, purposeful, the walk of a woman who had a goal, a mission to complete. But she had time. She had all of the time in the world.

She had an appointment to keep, someone to meet, even if this person knew she was about to be graced with her presence. Not that her prey had any choice in the matter. Because that’s what she was to the demon: prey, something to be consumed, to be tossed aside once it could provide no further nourishment. The demon had waited patiently for her quarry to show itself. She was good at waiting, a skill that came only with age and experience. Impatience was a foreign concept, vulgar and grotesque. But now her waiting had paid off; her target was exposed, vulnerable, helpless. Three of her favorite features in a victim.

She was coming into view now, unconscious and sprawled on the hard black ground. That wouldn’t do, not at all. The demon preferred her food alive, savored the moment the light went out in its eyes. That was this creature’s destiny. But not today. She wasn’t ready to be devoured yet. She still had a purpose to serve, a higher calling that stayed the demon’s hand. Claw. Whichever. But that was alright. She knew how to wait and was content to do so. Delayed gratification was another skill she was adept with.

The demon assessed the poor, hapless vampire lying before her, prone and defenseless. Pathetic. Blue jeans, torn from the tragedy that had just befallen her, grey tanktop covered in the ground’s oils. ‘Tar’, if the demon recalled correctly. Her boots were scuffed, but intact. The demon approved. The vampire lay on her stomach, and the demon stretched over to assess her condition. She was whole, physically at least. But she wasn’t waking up, and the demon assessed that she must have been unconscious for quite some time, indicative of her mind being broken rather than her body, as expected given the circumstances. That wouldn’t do, not at all.

The demon extended a talon and kneeled, pinned garnet eyes raking over the pitiful vampire as the black claw tapped her forehead. No response. Very well then, the demon thought, and turned the vampire to her side. Her clothes were torn and scuffed, and she possessed minor cuts and bruises, but nothing the demon couldn’t repair. In one swift movement her talon drew across her own wrist, just a small cut, enough to draw a thin line of warm, bright red blood. The demon dripped it into the vampire’s mouth, just a drop or two, before rising. The vampire twitched and the demon smirked, a smug, self-satisfied gesture.

“Wake up.”

She spoke softly. The demon didn’t need to yell to get her point across, never had. Her mentor had taught her the importance of a calm demeanor as a vital facet of control, and oh had the demon learned that lesson well. To her pleasure the vampire twitched once more, hissed softly, groaned - a most undignified sound - and cracked a garnet eye open, taking her first figurative breath in the New World.

The first thing the vampire saw was herself.

Granted, she had never seen herself in a mirror, what with being a vampire and all, but she would know herself anywhere. The pointed ears, grey complexion, the fangs, the same garnet eyes, the same onyx hair, though the demon’s was braided, whereas the vampire’s was loose and just a tad ruffled from the preceding events.

But it was the outfit that curled her stomach.

It was another thing the vampire would know anywhere. The immaculate black blazer and pant combination. The lavender shirt. The red tie and burgundy boots. And the amulet, the jewel at the base of the demon’s throat, the ghastly object that caused some deep, dark part of the vampire to recoil. Her father’s suit. But this wasn’t her father. She jolted awake now, pushing herself up onto her elbows with herculean effort. Now she could see that the demon before her was her, yes, but there were differences. Her hands weren’t hands at all, they were terrible grey claws with impossibly sharp talons, identical to those of her favorite bat form. The demon stared at her, emotionless except for wry amusement. She was calm, almost passive, and when she chuckled it was a mirthless sound that made the vampire’s skin crawl.

“Welcome to our mind.”

The vampire blinked, stupefied. Her brain felt like it was full of cotton, her thoughts disjointed and jumbled. It was hard to hear herself think, like she was deaf in the most profound of senses. But this wasn’t a safe place, this wasn’t a safe person, even she knew that. With a deep breath to steady herself she pushed herself off the ground, collapsing onto one knee when her muscles failed her and she barely succeeded in preventing herself from falling, acute aware that the demon was watching her curiously. The vampire winced from the impact to her knee; it didn’t feel like a break, but it wouldn’t hurt to heal it just in case.

Except it wasn’t healing.

Her eyes widened in alarm, and the demon watched curiously, head tilted, neither helping nor hindering. With another deep breath the vampire pushed herself into a standing position, unsteady and wobbling, but standing all the same and she was more proud of that than she would ever admit. Her body was trembling, and she reached up to rub her temples for no other reason than to prove to herself that there  _ wasn’t  _ a spike driving through her skull. It was only then that she registered the demon’s comment.

“...What?” It hurt, oh how it hurt, but the vampire turned, examining the strange new world she found herself in. As the haze in her mind lifted she began to take in the little details, not that it helped her make any more sense of her location. The ground was hard but strange, made of something she hadn’t seen since she was a child: tar, covered in green dust and with a strange grey tint. If anything, it looked like a road, the kind of road she had travelled on with Simon, before the crown stole him from her. Giant cracks spanned the road, threatening to break open at any minute. Large round holes, broken at the edges, seemed to litter the path excessively. Visibly chipped and unstable, they threatened to swallow up an unsuspecting, inattentive soul. She narrowed her eyes, taking an even closer look at the world, trying in vain to make sense of it all. Poles that were more rust than metal laid collapsed on the ground, crackling wires surrounding them like a net atop more rusted hinges. Those poles that remained standing had signs with strange shapes bolted to them, strange letters that looked normal but were otherwise gibberish.

The buildings themselves were monstrous. They were tall, perhaps dozens of stories, and it was amazing that they hadn’t collapsed in on themselves. They lined the road, each made of stone colored black, tan, or grey. There were no alleys. Each was also covered by the strange green tint in blotches, much of the exposed area covered with gibberish graffiti. What wasn’t covered in strange green blotches were stained with the age of its decay. Regardless, most of the buildings had giant holes bored into them, as well as massive cracks. Many of these large buildings displayed signs, different from those of the poles or building walls. There were metal structures, warped and broken that would have collapsed if not for the numerous wires supporting their weight from above.

Ruined. Everything was ruined.

“Eloquent. I’d expect nothing less from you, Unifier.”

She just sounded so calm, almost serene, and the vampire blinked in confusion, not the least bit sure what was going on. In her confusion she searched around her, but nope, there were only the two of them, and so the demon that wore her face must have been addressing her. But that made no sense to the vampire, because- “Unifier? Dude, my name is Marceline.”

This did not deter the demon, who was infuriatingly tranquil. “It was. Once.”

Something about the way she said that caused a shudder to ripple through the vampire. Only now was she realizing a greater concern, and that was how wrong her body felt. The vampire dubbed ‘Unifier’ glanced down at her hands, curling them into fists, willing thing into claws. Nothing. In her panic she willed forth fire, just a little flame. Nothing. As her panic grew she heard a soft, humorless chuckle and her head shot up, back to the demon. The demon who seemed to know so much about this world and found that knowledge discrepancy amusing.

“You no longer have your powers.” Still serene, still infuriating. “They’ve been stolen from you.”

That broke through the Unifier’s anger. “...Stolen? By what?”

“The others.”

Evidently the demon liked to be cryptic. The Unifier did not. “Others? What others?”

Now the demon seemed genuinely entertained. “You don’t remember anything, do you?” It was less of a question and more of a statement. It left no room for argument. Not that the vampire had one. “When we arrived in our mind we were one. Now we are eight.”

“...Why?” Her voice was quieter than she wanted.

“Does it matter?”

Her eyes narrowed and she growled, a pointless action as the vampire had no way of backing up the threat. “Of course it-”

“I’m afraid you have greater concerns at the moment.” It sounded like a threat, and once more the Unifier’s fist clenched. In response the demon chortled, “you’re adorable.”

“Who are you.” It was a demand and nothing less.

The demon’s eyebrow arched. “You have eyebones. You know who I am.”

“...You’re me.” The words were out before she could stop them. A profound and horrible truth.

“And you’re me. We are each other. As are the others.”

They both fell silent, appraising one another. The vampire broke the stalemate first. “...The others are me?”

“The others are us. I dislike repeating myself, but I can tell your mind is still jacked up, so I’ll let it go. When we arrived we were one, now we are eight. We are all pieces of one another. And they have stolen your powers.”

She wanted to argue, wanted some sarcastic or snappy retort, but something deep within her, in the remnants of the shredded remains of her soul, knew better. The demon before her was obvs antagonizing her on purpose, and there was a sadistic glint in her eye, but she also looked honest. The vampire paled, realizing that if this demon was who she thought she was she was relishing in the agony this honesty was inflicting. The brutal sincerity. The infliction of despair. “What the flip.” There was so much behind those three words.

“We all came from you. I came first, the rest came later. I know, I watched. Doesn’t matter. You can’t look behind you, you know? You’re not going that way. Your soul cut itself into me, then it liked doing it so much I guess that it did it six more times. From what I saw when I trailed their departures they took your vampire powers as a parting gift. And… based on the weenie-esque look you’re giving me I imagine your fire as well. I’m quite good at sensing fire, you know. And I dun sense any from you.”

“...They take anything else?”

The demon rolled her eyes, arms crossing. “Pretty sure you can check that yourself. I can’t solve all of your problems for you.”

The Unifier narrowed her eyes. “You haven’t solved anything, you butt!”

She smirked. “Oh? You’re awake aren’t you?” She paused, as if waiting for something. “You’re welcome.”

It was hard to argue with that. Not necessarily because the vampire agreed, but because she didn’t know how to even begin doing it. Instead she resorted to her fists, drawing her right arm back and bringing down with full force, knowing that this was either a really good idea or a really bad one. To her relief the ground before her cracked and split.

“I see you still have your strength, Unifier,” she teased.

The vampire narrowed her eyes, rubbing her knuckles. “Why do you keep calling me that?”

“That’s your name in this new world.”

“What the flip-”

“You can remove souls, which means you can absorb them as well.” That effectively silenced the Unifier, and the demon did nothing to hide her smug look. Her tone shifted then, tainted with the narcissism the vampire never thought herself capable of. “Understand me, because I am a demon. The ability to remove souls is a demonic ability, granted by our lineage. But I don’t have that ability. Unfair, right?” 

It was a rhetorical question, but the Unifier bit anyway. “What makes you think I have it? You just said there are like… a million more of us.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Six. There are six more.” Her claw fell away, the frustration successfully quelled. “You were where we all came from, but I emerged first. Like I said, I’ve been watching everyone. Wanted to see what pows they ripped from you, who they were,  _ what  _ they were.” She snickered. “Ah, that’ll be funny when you figure it out. Aaaanyway, I saw your pyrokineses, telekinesis, shape-shifting, invisibility, flight, healing… they all even had our strength, but no one showed the ability to suck out souls. Which means it’s gotta be in you.” 

Her tone was dangerous. It reminded the Unifier of why she considered herself an apex predator. “Why should I trust that-”

“Oh, I never said you should trust me. But think about it, dingus. Do you sense those pieces of yourself? Or are you missing something?”

The vampire realized then that the demon was right; something about herself felt off in a way she couldn’t place. She hadn’t realized it before, but now that it was brought to her attention it was becoming a vexatious itch. “So what’s your point?”

“My point, mein Schatz, is that this discrepancy makes you special. Valuable.” 

Somehow, for some reason, that comment did not fill the Unifier with good feelings in any way, shape, or form. The demon’s voice was dripping narcissistic venom, her gaze fixated on the vampire. Her eyes narrowed. “What’s your deal?”

And just like that the fixation dropped, and to the Unifier’s surprise the demon lifted her claws in a sign of peace. “Chill, guy. See how I’m  _ not  _ killing you? I didn’t wake you up just to start a fight. If I wanted you dead you’d already be dead.”

The vampire wanted to argue, almost called her out on her behavior, but in a rare and fleeting moment of self-preservation she snapped her jaw shut. Whatever this creature was she was a threat, there was no questioning that. But the demon seemed to know a lot more about the Unifier than the Unifier knew about her, or herself. She seemed to know a lot more about  _ a lot _ . She had accurately predicted that the vampire lacked her powers, but there was no way of knowing what exactly the demon had up her sleeve, or what her goal actually was. If the demon was even telling the truth about who and what she was. She was taunting the vampire, teasing her with malicious intent, but who knew what that intent was?

And she wore her father’s suit. That was also unsettling.

“So why  _ did  _ you wake me up? Somethin’ tells me that you didn’t do it just for stuff and giggles.”

The demon nodded, not even bothering to hide her laughter. "Oh look, we  _ can _ use our brain! I was worried for a moment there. You’re already making me proud” The vampire’s teeth gritted, and it brought the demon visible delight. “Fine, fine. Real talk time: I think we can help each other out.”

The Unifier’s eyes narrowed once more. On the one hand, that was clearly the worst idea the vampire had ever heard in her over one thousand years of Unlife. On the other hand, though- “Yeah?”

That was all the prompt the demon needed. “You have something I want. But not something you’re ready to give me yet.” The Unifier clenched her fist. She knew she was being baited, and resisting acting on it was becoming difficult. “And in exchange for it I will make your life - or, you know, Unlife - a little bit more bearable.” She hated the sound of that first part, but liked the sound of the second part, because even if the demon was lying about literally everything else the Unifier did seem alone in a hostile world. A hostile, silent world.

“What makes you think I wanna stay here?”

She chuckled, “I don’t think we have a choice. We’re stuck here, guy. At least for the foreseeable future. And let me tell you, our mind is a messed up place. You don’t know that yet, but trust me, it really is. You have your strength and your ability to suck souls, but that’s it. You’re at a serious disadvantage. Especially compared to the rest of us.”

She wasn’t wrong, and the vampire knew it. However- “You’re kinda assuming we aren’t getting out of here anytime soon.”

To her irritation, the demon only nodded. “Can you think of a reason to disagree?”

Indeed, she could. A big one. “Bonnie-”

“Isn’t here to solve our problem.” Her laugh was dark, her grin twisted, and it turned the Unifier’s stomach. “She’s not here, Unifier. Anywhere. I looked, of course. Why wouldn’t I search for the other half of us? But sadly… Bon’s not here to save you from yourself. Ourself. Not this time.” 

The vampire snarled. “Just ‘cause we haven’t found her yet-”

“Conversely… she hasn’t found us either. Now why would that be?” She tapped her chin in faux ponderance. “She’s resourceful, absolutely brilliant, and I know she’s put at least one tracker on us in our five hundred-” She paused. “Six?” Shrugged. “Eh. Doesn’t matter. Point is, she’s not here. So either she doesn’t want to find us, or she can’t. The result is the same: wherever ‘here’ is, we’re alone. Exactly as destiny intended. No Finn. No Jake. No Phoebe. No BonBon. Just you, me, and the rest of our shattered psyche.”

She smirked at the vampire’s expression, at the moment it struck her that she was truly torn apart from everything she knew and loved because as much as the Unifier despised this woman already her argument looked too flawless, with no cracks for her to claw and worry. “Ah, now you’re beginning to understand the situation. We’re on our own, mein Schatz. You can’t rely on her to kiss and make this better. Not this time, perhaps never again.” The Unifier grimaced at the comment, at the notion that she was in a world in which there was no Bonnibel Bubblegum. That she might never see her mate again, or hear her laugh. Or the steady, lulling beat of her heart. But then… even the vampire didn’t know where she was, so how could the princess? She told herself that it was a lie, a bluff, issued by a woman with an unknown agenda and an unnerving disposition, but the idea was already poisoning her mind.

The demon knew. That much was obvious. “As I said, you’re at a disadvantage. So I suggest we make an exchange. We both get what we want.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?”

“I can give you the ability to survive in this harsh world.” Her talon extended once more, and the Unifier wasn’t sure if it was  _ meant _ to be a threat or was just one accidentally.

“How the buzz would you do that?” The moment the question left her she winced. It was a buying question, and it implied that she was actually interested in trading. With a jolt she realized she was.

“I have power in this world the rest of you don’t. I can give you a piece of it.”

Temptation, one of her greatest weaknesses. “...What kind of power?”

The demon grinned. It reminded the vampire of a shark she once met. “I bend reality. I warp perception. I can give you just enough to allow you a chance at survival. What you do with it is up to you.”

A soft growl escaped the back of the vampire’s throat. A sorry, impotent growl. “And what do you want from me?”

“Like I said. You have something I want, but you’re not ready to give it to me yet. Sadly…” She sighed, making sure it was overdramatic. “I can’t tell you what it is.”

“Can’t? Or won’t?”

She shrugged. “Can’t. Just telling you would alter the result. A fascinating phenomenon. Just ask Bonnie- Oh. Oops.” She snickered and the Unifier felt a knife twist in her dead heart.

“Next you’re gonna tell me I don’t have a choice,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Incorrect.” The serenity had returned. “No matter what happens in life you always have a choice. You just don’t always have a good choice.”

“So what happens if I refuse? You kill me or something?”

The demon shook her head, amused. “Nah. You don’t wanna trade, we don’t trade. It hurts you more than it hurts me. Because you know what happens then? I let you go, and you try to survive in this world all on your lonesome, and one of two things happens. One,” she raised a talon, “you leave here, try to make it on your own like the ding dong you are, and get seriously injured or maybe even killed. Since, you know, it’s not like you can heal yourself. Or two,” she raised a second talon, “you spend the rest of your time here avoiding this world and everything in it. For the rest of your Unlife. Then I come back after you go bonkers.” She dropped her claw. “Your choice. Remember, freedom of choice is a very important facet in life.”

She was right. She was right and the vampire hated it, hated it like she hadn’t anything since her Turning. Hated the demon’s arrogance, her logic, her self-satisfied grin, her arrogance, her everything.

She wanted to go home.

Was this home now?

“...Fine.” The Unifier wanted it to sound strong, determined, maybe even intimidating, but it didn’t. It sounded defeated. She was defeated.

“Wonderful!,” she chirped. Without hesitation she reached out, tapping the vampire’s forehead lightly with her talon. It felt almost like something, some piece of her being, was sliding into some hole in her soul she hadn’t even realized existed, and despite the absurdity of it all she wondered if there were any other gaps to claw. It was a slithery sensation, cool and wet. Whatever it was burrowed deep and the Unifier shuddered involuntarily. To the demon’s credit she didn’t draw attention to, only withdrawing her talon. Tactful. It left the vampire disoriented and she blinked hard, trying to straighten her mind and succeeding in only making herself dizzy. “I’ve given you a small piece of my power. You will be able to warp reality in a limited capacity. Heal, manipulate objects, junk like that. It’ll make this game a little more fair.”

Her eyes focused on the demon just in time to catch the word- “...Game? What do you mean-”

She snickered, “Oh, don’t worry about that, just a slip of the tongue. ‘Sides, you got bigger problems right now. But you know, you’ve been a pretty good sport about all this, so I have a parting gift for you.” The Unifier definitely liked the sound of that ‘parting’ she mentioned, but who knew what this thing’s ‘gifts’ were like? Once more the claw reached out, and the vampire drew back instinctively. But the demon wasn’t focused on the vampire. She stretched her claw, the air in her palm rippling for just a moment. Then her claw wasn’t empty anymore, a familiar object having manifested in it.

“My bass!” Her dread turned to elation at the sight of her most precious item, her one connection to the outside world. Her one memento of home. The demon flipped it over, handing the instrument to the vampire staff first, a sign of peace. Without hesitation the Unifier grabbed the axe, clutching it like the lifeline it was. Forgetting where she was and who she was with she flipped it over to inspect it. To her relief it was in absolutely perfect condition, and for the first time since she regained consciousness she beamed.

“Touching. If you’re finished-”

“You want your payment?”

The demon sighed. “Manners, Unifier. Don’t interrupt. Rude. And yes, I do. But like I said, you’re not ready to give it to me yet. Don’t worry. You will. Not that you’ll remember this conversation.” Alarm bells rang in the Unifier’s mind, but by then it was too late. The demon, the predator, had waited until her prey was ripe, was at its tastiest before striking. One moment the vampire was standing proud, the next she was on the ground, concussed from the blunt force strike of the demon’s own bass, identical to the vampire’s in every way, drawn the moment the Unifier had turned her gaze. An uncouth maneuver to be certain, equal parts crass and effective. She hit the ground hard, but that was no longer of concern to the demon. Now that she could heal herself the vampire was her own problem. Her bass fell to the side, within reach. If she was conscious to reach it, that is. With a twinge of pity the demon reached out for the fallen bass, reuniting it with its unconscious partner.

Whistling softly to herself she bared her talon a third time, kneeling beside her other self, appraising her condition before and once more touching her forehead. “I’m afraid I need this memory. It’s the first part of my payment, you see. Consider this a life lesson in reading the fine print.” Had she been awake the Unifier would have felt violated, choked in the sensation of having her mind picked apart by a malevolent force. Mercifully, her mind was nowhere near conscious, too far gone to even dream. When her talon withdrew a tiny black ball came with it, somehow fuzzy, somehow reflecting what little light pierced through the sky of dust. Beautiful. The claw wrapped around it, and when it opened once more it was gone.

Memory recovered from its previous owner, the demon stood. With a tilted head she regarded the unconscious piece of herself. Soon the Unifier would be left to her own devices, abandoned in a harsh and unforgiving world. Alone, with only their six other selves to keep them company, and who knew what they were like? But that was of no concern to the demon. Her task was complete, and now her guise of an emotional gamut fell away, replaced with stoicism. “You have been given the tools necessary to survive. You can live, or you can die. You can ally yourself, or you can live in solitude. You can search for our friends, or you can accept our fate. You can flourish, or you can cower. The freedom of choice is a very important facet of life, Unifier. And now the choice is yours.” The demon stood, turning away from the vampire, footsteps echoing across the barren wasteland that was her mind, her home, her prison. 

It was time to set to work.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real talk: Did you all think I forgot about A capella? I never forget any of my stories, you should all know that by now! I really wanted to get up this chapter before returning to Opening Act. I'm aware it's not exactly the most popular of the things I write, but paradoxically, as far as being the author goes, the farther we get from Rehearsal the more important its backstory is going to be to the Musicology trilogy. I also have no plans to be done with Lady Evil anytime soon, so there's that.

It was a terrible idea.

Both objectively and subjectively, it was a terrible idea. In fact, in the history of the bad ideas Marceline Abadeer had ever had this was certainly up there in the top 50, quite the accomplishment for a woman over a thousand years old. But perhaps this particular decision had extenuating circumstances, a lens that changed its context from ‘terrible’ to ‘maybe sort of okay if you squint hard enough?’.

No. No matter how Arbitrator thought about it, turned it over and inside out in her mind this was a terrible idea.

But it was too late to turn back, that much was clear. She sighed, more of a frustrated huff really, as she glanced over her shoulder at the wasteland surrounding her. The sky was bright red, almost blinding; there were no clouds and no dust to offer any cover, and gazing into it for too long was a guaranteed way to irreversible retina damage. Rather than consist of one sharp red there were blotches of different shades in odd intervals and patterns. It looked almost patchwork, as if the creator had realized that they lacked enough of any one color to make a complete sky and so instead decided just to slapshot stitch them all together, without any blemishes like clouds or atmosphere. The ground seemed just as hostile as the sky, and just as endless. It was black with a perceivable red tint that reminded Arbitrator of dried blood. Seemingly impervious and firm, it felt like rubber and clay under the vampire’s sensitive fingers, bumpy, and harder than its texture could suggest, almost like a series of tiny stones huddled together to make a floor. This was no surprise; in their years together hundreds of battles must have taken place over this very landscape, and who knew how much blood was shed?

But it was a wasteland through and through, with no monsters or life of any sort to marr its perfect horror, at least at first glance. That was the illusion anyway; if you didn’t know what you were looking for you’d never be able to find the entrance, you’d just wander about haplessly while  _ she _ sat laughing at your misery from the luxury of her palace, a building that grew more decadent and imposing with every shady deal and rigged bet. It stood in the shadow of the ruined world the eight had no choice but to call home, its mirror in so many dreadfully uncomfortable ways.

Seven of them had agreed, informally at least, not to talk to  _ her _ , to just ignore her. It had been Rechte to suggest that, who said that monsters stop having power when you stop believing in them, but even she had eventually been tempted to stray from the group pact. It had disappointed Arbitrator, even broken her heart, to see that even the embodiment of Reason itself could be corrupted so, but she didn’t blame her. Not really. Because Rechte could only be the embodiment of what Whole Marceline considered Reason… and it turned out that was up to interpretation. And she never claimed to be infallible.

To Arbitrator it had been the final straw. Now she was alone in the universe, the last one to remain untouched by the sweet promises  _ she  _ offered. Exactly what the demon used to tempt each of the others wasn’t something they discussed, but Rechte falling was what caused Arbitrator to snap. The two had always been allied, always been close, and Linke’s cheers for her twin giving in, the guilty tint in Reason’s eyes, burned in her mind and was forever cemented. It sickened Arbitrator down to her very core. Now she was the last and it had to stop; she couldn’t undo the past but she could protect them, her makeshift family, from further corruption, even if they refused to protect both each other and themselves.

The vampire wasn’t stupid, or even idealistic. Navigator had tried to talk her out of the journey, had even managed to rope Unifier into it, which was an impressive feat. They were her friends, but her mind was made up, and so she had made her peace and appealed to Rechte for a shortcut. Her friend had just shrugged her compliance, and when she and Linke opened the portal the half-demon knew there was no turning back. Linke had snickered, cheerfully reminding her that she was the weakest of the eight, gone to meet one of - if not the - strongest. To her credit, Rechte had smacked Linke upside the head hard enough to leave a dent before informing the soon-to-be-voyager that she would keep the portal open for her so that she wouldn’t have a multi-day journey back. That had elicited a genuine smile; Rechte didn’t say or do anything she didn’t mean, and she kept every promise she had ever made. She wasn’t disingenuous, and it was one of the things that Arbitrator liked most about her. If Rechte believed in her she would believe in herself. Her mission.

But the bitter fact remained that Rechte had allowed her mind to become tainted, warped, mangled, and it left a sour taste in her mouth that had yet to dissipate. Arbitrator wanted to be mad at her for it but didn’t have it in her. Even Reason itself wasn’t immune from desire and longing, and it had been… what? Ten years since they’d arrived? Twenty? Time had no meaning in their shared mindscape. Long enough for them to know better. Long enough for Rechte to desire  _ something _ , for something to tempt her. She wasn’t invincible, and while time may heal some wounds it would leave others to fester. Arbitrator had implored the embodiment of Reason, almost begged her, to tell her what it was she threw everything away for, but Rechte had only offered a tired smile.

Arbitrator snapped out of her reverie. Over her shoulder the world was still desolate but the portal remained opened, and that alone bolstered Arbitrator enough, steeling her resolve. What the demon was doing was sheer madness, and as the last remaining untainted vampire she would need to put a stop to it. Being what she was, it was her duty. Her counterparts were adults, but as separate beings they lacked the insight the others provided. They needed one another, and more than any of the others Arbitrator knew they belonged  _ together _ . They were one person, and while divided they may stand it was the difference between living and surviving. No, she couldn’t change the past, but she could prevent further insanity. Maybe, just maybe, if she bested the demon she would even be able to convince Unifier to absorb the souls of the other, to let them be one whole person again so that they could leave and finally go home.

Those thoughts, that determination, was what brought her to the Citadel’s invisible front gate in nothing more than a black and red flannel shirt and heavily torn black jeans, red sneakers already coated in the wasteland’s dust, bass strapped to her back and at the ready. Just before making the journey she had cut her hair down, just past her shoulders, and Navigator’s borrowed fire-orange cloth wristband rested snugly over her left wrist. ‘For luck’, the embodiment of Sentiment had said, because even if she didn’t exactly see the point in this trek she was a bleeding heart who kept her allies close.

With no further hesitation Arbitrator shifted her left hand into a serrated blade, small and sharp enough to make the slice into her right palm almost painless. By the time the blood offering spilled onto the ground she had already healed it, not that she noticed; the door had instantly revealed itself to her, that terrible wrought iron gate with its stinging black, impossibly thick metal greater than the width of her arms. Undoubtedly the demon already knew she was there; it was a well-known fact - well, to her at least - that the monster spied on everyone, and although the vampire couldn’t see any cameras from her vantage point she was sure that was the point. After a small shake of the head she drew the necessary characters in the air, invisible to all but demonic eyes. It was only a moment more before the gate opened, beckoning her.

With every reservation she entered the demon’s lair.

Once the gate had closed, surely invisible once more, Arbitrator frowned. The demon had clearly been busy; the last time the vampire had seen the place it had been almost an exact duplicate of the Nightosphere itself, save for the demons. The fire, the spires, the towering rock formations, it had all been there. But evidently it had not been to her taste, because much of it had been radically altered.

There were buildings, actual buildings, of an ancient architectural style Simon had once shown to the eight when they were whole, and a child. They too were black, but not made of the same material as the cobblestone ground. Instead, they were smooth, almost shiny, the material something both familiar and foreign. They were large, all of them, and oh there were a lot of them. They flanked the cobblestone street on both sides, imposing beasts of architecture that stretched to the sky, topped by thick, pointed spires.

Unlike the buildings that infested the ruins sprawling across the shared mindscape these structures weren’t touching as a rule, weren’t even close enough to have an alley between them. They were also not of uniform size some squat and some tall, some wide and some thin. While the buildings within the ruins were rather uniform these differentiated starkly, ready to be used for whatever unique purpose they had been constructed for. In between some of the larger buildings there even existed massive bridges, though these were made of the ground material, rather than the metal-like ones consistent within the buildings. The bridges extended to the ground, almost cemented to the floor to provide increased support, as if something of massive weight often walked across it. Lining these bridges were large spikes, shiny and black, though at a distance it was impossible to say what exactly they were made of. Arbitrator knew that were her mate here Bonnibel would describe them as ‘foreboding’, a word she hadn’t really understood until the first time she had stepped foot in the demon’s lair, a location that seemed to hum with animosity and loathing.

After all, why else would this be the one location in their entire mind to have unguarded windows? Just a quick glance towards them caused bile to rise in Arbitrator’s gut and she shuddered, reflexively turning away from the brightly lit stained-glass before it could show her anything heartbreaking. There would be no sense in turning nostalgic before her mission was complete. Her mind had to stay sharp, because the demon’s was sharper still.

Sight-seeing would have to wait, because the demon wouldn’t. With a steady breath the Arbitrator sighed and made her way to the Citadel using the immaculate and foreboding street lamps as her guides, almost drowning in the sensation of being watched. She could almost see the demon’s narcissistic smile in her mind’s eye, hear the arrogance in her voice, for she loved,  _ loved _ when prey wandered in so willingly, as eagerly as she was now. The vampire couldn’t repress her shudder, and while she wouldn’t be happy to admit it by the time she made it to the maw that was the entrance she was thoroughly creeped out, not hesitating to slide through the barrier.

Unlike the outside the Citadel entryway itself seemed largely unchanged, the same hard stone-like material as the ground outside, accented by a soft royal purple rug lined with gold tassels. The walls where their father once hung portraits of himself were still bare, giving the impression that the corridor was longer than its actual dimensions. It seemed like an odd omission; it wasn’t like the demon to waste space or fail to make an impression whenever given any opportunity, after all. Was the Citadel still under construction after all this time? An oddity, but not an impossibility, especially given that the demon was a recluse who rarely showed her face outside of her iron palace. The vampire tried not to think about it too hard, instead focusing on her mission. If all went according to plan she would never need to be back here so long as the eight lived. She just needed to keep in mind her practiced speech, steel her nerves, and face off against Fear Itself.

When Arbitrator reached the end of the hallway she found a note taped to the door.

_ Out to lunch. Back at 13:00. Don’t touch my stuff. _

_ -LE _

The Arbitrator’s lips were a fine line, her jaw clenched, because of  _ course  _ the demon would do this. It was a sick joke; the mindscape didn’t even have any clocks! Out of instinct the half-demon poked her head around, only to see the office door ajar just a bit. Just a pinch. Just enough, and she was sorely tempted, almost went for it… then stopped. Because the demon, as evil as she was, was a being of rules and order and she would never suffer the insult of having her wishes ignored, least of all in her own lair. Was this a cruel temptation? Undoubtedly. Were she a betting woman Arbitrator would even wager she was behind the doorway right now, snickering with sick glee or whatever the fuzz she did when she played with her food.

The vampire pressed her back against the wall next to the door and slid to the floor with a soft *thud*, her eyes sliding shut in time. She could be patient when the need arose, and if this was the demon’s scheme than so be it, because as much as Arbitrator would  _ love  _ to run in, bass figuratively blazing, she had to protect the others and she couldn’t very well do that if she were Truly Dead, especially with the Unifier not around to absorb her soul.

No sooner had her eyes slid shut did she feel a small burst of heat to her side, quickly extinguished and she blinked, briefly confused. Her confusion turned into a smirk when she realized the cause: the note was missing, having immolated and signifying that the Citadel’s master had returned to her office. With a deep breath the singer pushed herself into a standing position, hand consciously moving to the strapped bass before stopping; a physical confrontation was not the goal, no matter how satisfying it might be in the short term.

Three knocks in quick succession, and the sound of static filled the foyer.

“Arbitrator. I know we don’t have an appointment, but I just wanna talk.”

The static was silenced the moment she was finished speaking. There was a pause, followed by the noise of something metal dragging and scraping against something else metal, then the curious found of something like steam. Without warning the door sank through the floor, the top securing itself, as if it had never been a door at all.

And there she was.

Of the eight to inhabit the wasteland she was, had been, would always be the odd woman out. A piece of their fractured psyche unlike any other, dressed not in a wardrobe they had worn in the past but one they would wear in the future, unless they found a way to circumvent destiny, and not in the way the lunatic wanted. The immaculate suit. The Deathless. Of the eight the only full-blooded demon. The only reality bender, unless you counted the Unifier. The one who didn’t float, who didn’t shapeshift, who kept a policy of non-engagement unless her loyalty was bought or rented.

“If it isn’t my favorite guardian. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

The narcissistic venom of a voice, spite where her blood should flow. The serenity only an apex predator could know.

“I prefer ‘Arbitrator’, thank you.”

Her tone was kept calm and controlled, because respect was the key. If you wanted to be treated like an equal you would have to treat yourself like her equal. Predators don’t respect prey, only other predators, and if you portrayed yourself as prey she would devour you alive, but only after she had extracted every last drop of agony.

“Very well. How can I assist you, mein kleiner Vermittler?”

And oh how the seven were full of agony.

“I just wanna talk.”

Her cheek was rested in her claw, and she did nothing to hide her capricious smirk, as if this visit were a long time coming and was more for posterity than anything else. Like the Arbitrator was merely playing a part, albeit reluctantly. She chortled of all things, like this was a game. Like it had always been a game.

“Have you come to make a deal?”

Insufferable.

“No, Lady Evil. No deals. Just wanna talk.”

The demon raised an eyebrow, fixing the vampire with a hard stare and Arbitrator found herself holding her breath reflexively. It was so jarring how such a non-gesture could feel so violating, but as pinned garnet eyes raked over her that was the only way she could describe it. It was an almost physical sensation, like something sharp was reaching out, just ghosting over her soul. Or… piece of her soul, as it were. It took everything within the Arbitrator to not flinch, to not recoil in disgust, to quell the nausea bubbling within her.

The more the vampire mentally reassured herself that she wasn’t prey the easier it became to believe.

“Alright, I’ll bite. Please, have a seat, Arbitrator.”

From her peripheral the vampire did her best to scan the room, failed, and so settled for the desk. Though just as large as her father’s desk his was simple and utilitarian, having just enough room for the tools necessary to aid in his job of sowing confusion and frustration throughout the Nightosphere. His daughter’s desk, in contrast, was much flashier and more detailed, containing a short lip and hood instead of flat surface, scaled edges along the sides turned inward, and what looked like a tiny replica of the wrought iron gate lined along the back, effectively discouraging anyone from reaching over to invade her space.

The top of the desk featured several trinkets, which was surprising given how organized Lady Evil was as a rule, and oh how she loved rules. The largest was, without a doubt, the computer, which was a grey sleek thing, small and boxy with a green holo screen sitting above the contraption. Next to the device was a picture frame made of shiny nails fused together, the pointy ends facing outward in a way that discouraged careless grabbing. Although it didn’t face her Arbitrator knew exactly what picture was in that frame - assuming it, unlike every other frame, held a picture. If memory served it was the picture of Marceline’s - Whole Marceline’s - first date with Bonnibel, a treasured artifact the Whole had kept in their room in the real Nightosphere to prevent anything from happening to it. An odd thing to have, given that Lady Evil had been quite vocal that she had no heart. Not after she cut it out for offending her.

Like Hunson’s actual office this one featured a long window behind the desk, allowing an easy view of the Nightosphere’s perpetual chaos. Unlike the actual window, however, this one was pitch black and impossible to see out of, effectively rendering it non-functional, even if it was undamaged. An odd omission. In the corner, to the diagonal left of the half-demon, was a nondescript file drawer, almost as tall as she was. It lacked any form of labelling or even identification, appeared to be made of steel. The walls were missing the portrait’s found in Hunson’s actual office, even lacking empty frames. They were completely bare, and Arbitrator frowned at the aberration. It made the office look far larger than he knew it actually was, and she wondered if that was on purpose. 

But she was waiting too long, and hesitating to reply was a sign of weakness. “Thank you.” With all the bravado she didn’t actually possess the musician lowered herself into the simple black chair plopped before the desk like the afterthought it was. Being offered a seat was either a really good sign or a really bad one. The demon was notoriously both irreverent and egotistical and believed only equals should sit before one another, and so it was quite possible that Lady Evil was silently signaling to the vampire that she saw had seen into some piece of her and liked what she saw, that she really was giving Arbitrator the time of day, the consideration she rightly deserved.

That or she was making fun of her. Most likely that second one.

“Now… how can I help you?,” she repeated, amusement still evident.

“I need you to stop.”

The demon lifted her head from her claw, gracing the vampire with her amusement. “‘Need’ is a pretty strong word.”

The singer mentally cursed herself because Lady Abadeer was right, and right out of the gate she had betrayed too much of her intention. There was no going back on her choice of words, she would have to find away to dance around her misstep. “Well, you specialize in needs, right? It’s kinda your thing?”

She chuckled, “I suppose you’re right. I’ll go with this. What do I need to stop?” When Arbitrator didn’t respond immediately Lady Evil raked her eyes over her counterpart once more. By the time the weaker queen realized she was being asked a legitimate question the moment had passed and so the demon saw fit to answer for her. “Ah. This probably has to do with Rechte, doesn’t it? She’s your friend, right?” The hand clenching in ire was all the answer she needed. “Mm. Yeah, that’s gotta suck, huh? I heard about your impassioned speech from Linke.”

“My speech?” If the demon wanted to fish for information Arbitrator would control where she cast. She hoped.

“Yeah, she was pretty amused by it. Something about it being dumb to keep working with me because I’m a being of pure malevolence with absolutely no ties or loyalty?”

Leave it to Linke to skimp on the important details, she thought bitterly. “Well… sort of. That’s not all of it. You’re pure evil, yeah. You have ties and loyalty, just not to any of us. But you’re dangerous, makes no sense to pretend otherwise, and none of us know what it is you’re up to.”

“So you being here right now is… what? You preventing a problem?,” she mused.

Arbitrator bobbed her head. “Yeah, something like that. You’re a reality bender, and I think you know us better than we know you. You know what it is we all want, so you find us at our weakest and offer it to us, then you take away our memories of what we gave you so we don’t even remember we did anything in the first place.”

Lady Abadeer nodded, quite pleased with herself. “Accurate. You’re all pretty predictable. Makes it easy.”

“Yeah, and it’s messed up.”

Her bafflement seemed sincere, ‘seemed’ being the operative word. “Why?”

The vampire took a steadying breath. She had hoped the demon would take longer to feel her out, get inside her mind, because as unpleasant as that course of action was it meant she had the other woman’s attention. If Lady Abadeer was jumping to the kill right away it meant she was bored, and if she was bored she was less likely to treat this as a meeting between equals and more likely to treat it like dinner preparation. “Because even if we don’t remember the deets you still take stuff from us. Personal stuff, memories and junk. It still hurts us. So I need you to stop.”

For a brief, horrible moment her tone took on a dangerous edge she didn’t intend, and the glint in pinned garnet eyes matched it. “You need me to stop,” she mocked. “And what exactly is your plan, Arbitrator? Challenge me when I could waste you without even standing up?”

The vampire shook her head, almost smirking at the demon’s look of disappointment. “I’m not here to fight, Lady Evil. Just talk. I know you could waste me, but I know you’re not like the lunatic. Fighting isn’t what you jump to. You got other goals. See, we deal with you because you’ve got stuff we want, but you deal with us ‘cause we got stuff you want. So I’ve just been putting the pieces together.” The demon seemed almost impressed by the sheer audacity of the creature before her, but failed to interrupt her clearly rehearsed speech. After all, a wise woman once taught her the importance of a pregnant pause, and how to wield it. “So I asked around, and I figured out what you took from everyone.”

“Their dignity?”

Arbitrator refused to acknowledge that answer. “Why don’t you want us to know what you are?”

If the vampire had hoped such a question would catch her off-guard or compel her to reveal some deep secret she was disappointed, because rather than look startled Lady Evil smirked, pinned eyes reflecting some sick delight. “Why don’t you want them to know what  _ you  _ are?”

Arbitrator froze, and Lady Abadeer chuckled darkly. “That’s right, mein kleiner Vermittler. I’m in the business of knowing things, and I know  _ exactly _ what you are. But it seems I’m the only one who does. Now why might that be…?” She tapped her chin with her claw, eyes travelling absently as she feigned being deep in thought. “Oh!” Her attentioned snapped back to her weaker self. “Could it be because if they knew they’d tear you apart?”

Arbitrator narrowed her eyes, bristling. Narrowed her eyes, bristled, but didn’t argue. Instead she deflected, knowing that under no circumstances should the demon before her be given any slack. “We’re not here about me, Lady Evil.”

She laughed. An actual laugh. Not good. “Nah, I think we’re here  _ exactly  _ because of you, Arbitrator.” Now her laughter was a dark chuckle and her claw tented, her chin resting on them. “Do you know why the others come to me all the time? It’s ‘cause I’m the easiest way to get what they want. Example: Rechte wanted a cage to keep Linke in. Could she have kicked Linke’s butt the old fashioned way, asserted herself as the dominant twin and all that? Sure. But I gave her a quick solution in the form of a fence around their house, because, tragically, her morality makes a fine muzzle and she doesn’t want to genuinely hurt her sister. She had a need, and I provided a solution. Now Linke can’t get out. She doesn’t even know she’s in a cage.”

The vampire sat, stunned. In all honesty she hadn’t expected Lady Evil to just volunteer the information of what she had used to corrupt Rechte, hadn’t expected her to volunteer  _ any  _ information at all. She didn’t just give up a bargaining chip, didn’t believe in freebies. Something else was happening here. Something worse. If only she could figure out what, preferably before it cost her something vital. “Why would Rechte want to cage Linke?”

Lady Evil shrugged. “Don’t know, don’t care. She wanted to trade so I made her a Gate.” Her head tilted. “Is that why you came here, mein kleiner Vermittler? To ask how I corrupted your friend?”

Arbitrator took a deep breath, held, exhaled, pushing her ill ease out with it. Hopefully. “Look. I know you can pretty much do anything in our brain, but I’m politely asking you to knock it off. You’re taking advantage of them.”

The demon rolled her eyes, fixing the weaker musician with a look that bled pity. “Arbitrator, don’t get me wrong. I like you. You’re respectful, and that’s totes important. All I do is identify a need and fulfill it. I give them contracts. Whether or not they read ‘em is their choice. Can’t deny freedom of choice, now can I?”

“You set them up to fail,” she spat, not knowing where the surge of venom in her voice came from. Perhaps it had something to do with hearing her friends be mocked, reduced to the roles of children, or maybe the natural aura the Nightosphere had always radiated. Or maybe she was actually sincerely angry.

Lady Evil lifted her claw, putting it over her chest. “You wound me, Arbitrator. Besides, it’s not just about what I  _ can  _ do. It’s also about what I can prevent.” Her claw was withdrawn, the knuckles cracking as she flexed it. “And I think that’s why you’re here. You say it’s ‘cause you want me to stop dealing with the others to protect them. But I think it’s about protecting yourself.” When her companion didn’t respond verbally, only with a steady stare, the demon continued, radiating smugness. “You and the maniac are the last two of us to know what I am. I haven’t found anything she wants for that knowledge, but I think I know something  _ you  _ do.”

Arbitrator narrowed her eyes. “You’ve got nothing on me, Lady Evil.”

The demon sighed around her smile, shaking her head with pity. “Aw, don’t be that way. Because I know what you are.” It was sing song, and it made the Arbitrator’s dead blood run cold. “It’s something you’ve hidden from the others  _ very  _ carefully. Not that I blame you. They’d tear you apart. It’d be a shame if they found out.” 

The grin of intimidating fangs seemed to emphasize the point, and as much as the vampire wanted to argue, wanted to fight, wanted to make the other woman eat her words she knew, in her heart of hearts, that she was right, and even her allies would kill her if they knew what part of their psyche she represented. But in the back of her mind she heard a voice, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Rechte, warning her that the demon was baiting her and to focus on the task at hand. “So is that what your deal is, Lady Abadeer? If I don’t go away you tell the others?”

To her surprise the demon’s look of disgust seemed genuine. “ _ Give away info _ ? Dude, don’t you listen to  _ anything  _ Bonnie says? Knowledge is power, yo. Why would I give it away just to prove a point?”

The pause while the vampire mulled over that strange statement was loaded, knowing she was being led somewhere, and it wasn’t anywhere good. “So if you’re not threatening to spill my secret why do you keep mentioning it?”

Lady Evil’s smug was all-too self-satisfied. “Because every time I do you give a very subtle flinch. Are you not comfortable with who you are, Arbitrator?”

Her eyes narrowed. “I’m fine with who I am.”

“Which is why you haven’t told anyone.”

_ This is going nowhere.  _ “Look, I-”

“Have a Tyrant problem,” she cooed.

Arbitrator blinked. “What do you mean?”

She gave a half-shrug. “She’s quite dangerous, and as powerful as both myself and the maniac we share a mind with. As it stands Tyrant spends all of her time at the cabin, waiting obediently for Bonnibel to come back. The good news is that BonBon will return to us, whether to rescue her mate or reclaim her lost property. But, and this is merely my educated guess, I believe Tyrant’s part of the mind will break under the pressure of isolation and loss before then. When that happens… well, I suppose we’ll have a body count on our hands.”

The vampire bristled, both from the snide tone and the implication. “I’m not making a deal for Tyrant. She’s gonna be fine.”

The demon arched an eyebrow. “You’re admirable, Arbitrator. You try to see the best in us because you’re us at our best. Unfortunately, your misplaced idealism’s risk-cost analysis isn’t in your favor.”

“What do you mean ‘in my favor’?”

Lady Evil rolled her eyes. “Your idealism demands that you put yourself in precarious situations, much as you are right now. This puts you in a disadvantage because, as you said, I do have something I want from you, but you want the trade more than I do. You may remember what I am, but even if you  _ did  _ tell the others they’re incapable of comprehending it unless the admission comes directly from me. So,” she leaned forward on her elbows, “let me put this in terms you can understand. You’re at a strategic disadvantage.”

“Strategic disadvantage,” Arbitrator deadpanned.

Lady Evil’s pinned eyes bored into the vampire. “I like you, Arbitrator. You’re respectful, and while I fault you on your idealism I commend you for your commitment to the bit. You’re a hard worker, and you strive for harmony. But tell me… is what you’re trying to do  _ really _ for the best?”

Arbitrator gawked. “Are you for real?”

Lady Evil’s tone changed to one that was chiding a small child. “Consider the following. Eight of us exist in our mind. Of the seven who aren’t myself, five have approached me to strike deals for one reason or another. In every case they have all relinquished the same thing: the knowledge of what I am. In exchange I have improved their lives considerably. Where is the harm?”

As try as she might, Arbitrator could not restrain the growl in her voice. “It’s not about what you’ve done so far.”

“Ah.” She leaned back, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “You’re worried that I’ve only give them a taste, and because it’s worked so well they’ll just keep making more and more deals with me, becoming, shall we say… addicted?”

“Yep,” she popped.

“Then, why don’t we make a deal ourselves?” Her grin suddenly reminded Arbitrator of why, in the real Ooo, so many found her intimidating. “Obviously you want me to stop offering deals. In return I want that piece of knowledge you hold.”

Arbitrator took a deep breath, counted to Sieben, then forcefully exhaled. “I know you. It’s not that simple.”

Lady Evil’s feigned look of pain was a marvel for the ages. “It’s exactly that simple. Whether or not I approach them to make deals they’ll make them with me regardless. You all know how to find me, and my ability to bend reality is universally known. The difference between you and the others is that you recognize that we merely need to bide our time until we escape our mind while they talk about reality like it’s some distant dream. You and I both know that we are not immune to eternity, even if we do feel every second of it here. It’s why you haven’t told them what you are, is it not?”

Arbitrator gripped her armrests. “What I am-”   


“Is dangerous, don’t pretend otherwise,” Lady Evil chuckled. “You’re a heartbreaker, and a gatekeeper. If you fail in  _ your  _ duty I spread so much more easily. Quite a burden, isn’t it? I don’t know how you deal with it.” Arbitrator couldn’t help feeling her eyes slit, couldn’t help feel her fists clench. “You may think you’re my antithesis, mein kleiner Vermittler, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. You’re my harbinger. One day we will be back in the real Ooo and that heavy burden of yours… well, I wonder how you’ll stand up to the test of rebirth.”

“I’ll be ready,” she growled.

“Self-delusion is the sincerest form of flattery,” Lady Evil agreed, head tilting. “I heard Rechte’s comment about recognition giving monsters strength, by the way. Tell me… was she talking about me… or you?”

Too much, and Arbitrator stood sharply. “Stop making everyone deals just because it’s easier, and stop taking our memories!”

A grey talon was held up, its owner unphased by the abrupt movement. “Counter offer. I will stop  _ offering  _ deals first, and I’ll even keep my Citadel nice and visible for when Tyrant inevitably snaps and you require my assistance in containing her. In exchange, I take from you what you know I am. If you ask nicely I may even take from you the knowledge of what  _ you  _ are as a bonus.”

“Tyrant. Will. Be. Fine,” Arbitrator grated out through clenched teeth.

“Those are my terms, Arbitrator.”

The two women stared at one another, unflinching. “...We’re going to be ready. Me and the others. We’re not going down as easily as you think we are. You’re patient, and you’re a talented liar, but the only way we all get out of this is to become whole again. I don’t know what you’re up to, but you don’t win.”

Lady Evil sighed patronizingly, shaking her head slowly. A tone of disappointment. “Such combative language. As BonBon would be happy to point out numbers don’t lie, Arbitrator. You have such bravado, but… well, you’re the weakest part of our psyche. I’m sitting in a literal throne earned through wit and strength. So’s the maniac for that matter. I think she usurped Bonnie’s, so I’d look into that if I were you.” She shrugged as she leaned back in her chair. “Those are my terms, mein kleiner Vermittler.”

Arbitrator seethed, clenching her jaw tight enough that she was amazed she didn’t break a fang. She hated it, hated all of it, and while much of the demon’s claims regarding the real Ooo were arguable those relevant to their current living situation? Those were harder to disclaim, and both women knew it. They both also knew that Arbitrator had decidedly more to lose than Lady Evil, in more ways than one.

“...I give you my knowledge of what you are. You stop approaching everyone for deals.”

Lady Evil’s smirk became a sneer. “Do you want me to take the knowledge of what  _ you  _ are from you, too? Seems like a heavy burden. I’d hate for it to weigh you down. I know how much you love to fly.”

“No,” she said more firmly than she felt in her resolve. No need for the demon to know that, though. “I’m not running from that. It won’t solve anything, and no way I’m leaving you with even more info that we don’t have. Nice try, though.”

“Thanks, I thought so, too,” she snickered. “Well then. Do we have a deal?” She extended a claw, raising an eyebrow.

Arbitrator watched it like the weapon of mass destruction it was, like it was attached to. “...Deal.” 

She grasped the claw, resisting the urge to flinch when she felt the talons unintentionally - she assumed unintentionally at least - dug into her wrist. “A pleasure.”

The vampire snorted, slitted eyes dilating. “Goodbye, Despair.” And then Arbitrator felt her skull split, felt something being forcefully ripped from her very soul and shredded. Tears stung her eyes and she wasn’t sure what was more agonizing; the sensation of her soul ripped to shreds or the sensation of it being patched together again without any care or tact. She didn’t need to breathe but felt like she was suffocating all the same. The illusion of her heartrate increasing was all-too real, and as her vision started to blacken she felt herself being lifted. Paralyzed but conscious, dazed but sane, she was unceremoniously deposited with neither grace nor care just outside of the Citadel’s entrance. No sooner had her prone body hit the floor the door to the Citadel sealed itself as its master returned to her throne, memory clutched protectively in her claw. The demon grinned down at it, and with one thoughtful glance the grey claw flexed, crushing the delicate jewel into nothingness.

“Goodbye, Hope.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you guys enjoyed the teaser do me a big favor and tell me who your favorite misfit is! 1.) I'm curious, and 2.) I want to have that knowledge informing my writing as I move forward.
> 
> Also because I love them all.


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